text || Jeff Harrison

Hovers Pulled From The Goblin Urn

these hovers don't last
though hoped me those
verses would lure Virginia
from / under / where
bleeds sea up darkest
that folded PEEP is
the WATERS, up-, up-,
upon the face
of these waters
no hovers,
mechanically
restless,
will endure (
stiffly immortal
with sharp name
to stick thru
this stretched
creature wane,
guestless,
dreaming - or,
rather, con-
fined
to slumbers
with
no stories,
offering
only oaths
to speak tales)
that folded PEEP
is CHRONOS, up,
up, up rocks &
down soil --
graver, slower, colder,
startle me over some
waves carcass-crowned
though topped, Virginia, with
peace shall rave your name